


Bad Ideas (and their more fortunate outcomes)

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Edgeplay, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Oral Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29272680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hawke knows she has a tendency for saying what's on her mind without thinking it through. Mostly she would say it is part of her charm. But every once in a while it comes back to bite her. Sometimes literally.
Relationships: Arishok/Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Arishok/Hawke (Dragon Age)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	Bad Ideas (and their more fortunate outcomes)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blarfkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarfkey/gifts), [Solas_Dreadwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solas_Dreadwolf/gifts), [CrimsonShield75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonShield75/gifts).



“Varric, we’re running out of options here,” Hawke whispers. She sees her friend shrug from the corner of her eye.

“You’re the one who can usually talk the Arishok into things, not me, Hawke,” he murmurs back.

Her eyes are fixed carefully on the group of Qunari who look at them with utterly stoic expressions. They seem relaxed, like they do not have a care in the world, but Hawke knows better. She knows they’re poised to attack at any given moment, always prepared to draw their weapons if it should prove necessary. She sighs and sends a useless prayer to a Maker she doesn’t believe in as she addresses the Arishok once more.

“Are you sure we can’t talk this over like civilized people?” she tries, and the minuscule raise of his eyebrow seems almost scathing as he curls his lips in distaste.

“Civilized? That would require your people to adhere to the very basics of a civilized society. So far, I have seen little of that.”

“Ah, come on,” she says with a half-smile and a little tilt of her head. “We’re not all bad, you said so yourself! If you would just give us a little bit more time…”

More time to find the culprit. Find them and put the fear of a blight in them for their stupidity. Who in their right mind would dare steal anything from the Qunari? A bored minor noble whose greatest strength is complete idiocy, apparently. And who is, rather unfortunately, good at hiding.

“We have a lead; we just need more time, let us..”

“Enough,” the Arishok says sharply. “I’ve given you this information out of courtesy for your status as a respected outsider, Hawke. Do not make me reconsider this standing of yours.”

He sounds so final it makes her fingers itch, and her blood boil with anger. Anger at the situation, anger at his uncompromising stubbornness.

“If you send your people looking for him all over the city, it will provoke the Chantry and the Viscount into action, Arishok. You know that as well as I know that. _Please_ reconsider.”

“I have no intention of doing that.” He sits utterly relaxed on the simple bench that somehow almost gives the impression of being a throne as he stares her down. “If the authorities of your city are spurred into action against us, we will deal with it appropriately. I do not fear the consequences.”

 _‘Of course, he doesn’t,’_ Hawke thinks. He will not be the one suffering should an open fight break out. The people of Kirkwall would.

“One day,” she argues once more, out of spite. “Twenty-four hours - grant us that much.” She is at the end of her patience, and the fact that she is almost begging him to let her catch a criminal for him so that she can avoid further escalations grinds on her. Without much thought, she adds, “Might do you some good as well.”

Of course, he hears her loud and clear, and his eyes narrow. “Do you think it wise to criticize me, in your position?”

At that, she lets out an unamused scoff. “Wise? Void, no! But it’s not like it can make things much worse.”

“Hawke,” Varric hisses beside her, “this is really not a good idea.”

“No, you know what?” she bursts out. “I’ve had it! I’ve tried being diplomatic. I really did. And look where it got us!” There is a dangerous fire burning in her eyes as she faces the Arishok again.

“You are unreasonable, and you know it! And maybe a day off and, I don’t even know, a good lay and a decent breakfast after, would fix your sullen mood and make you see clearly again.”

It is dangerously quiet in the Qunari compound. Quiet enough for Hawke to hear her own heartbeat going furiously as she realizes what she just said. And to whom. The Arishok looks at her like she has completely lost her mind, and that’s probably not too far off the mark. She curses herself quietly for once again, not thinking things through before talking. 

“A good lay…” he says slowly, and the way he tilts his head while he stresses the last word like it’s a particularly distasteful thing sends an uneasy feeling down Hawke’s back. But to her surprise, there is no anger, only a subtle twitch on his face she can’t quite pinpoint.

“An intriguing suggestion, if not a feasible one,” the Arishok says with a careless shrug as if her words have actual merit. As if she hadn't just insulted him. “The Tamassrans of your city lack the endurance to properly attend to my kind.”

The absolute matter-of-fact way he adds that last sentence throws her off enough to let out an inappropriate laugh.

“Oh please, that is some bullshit,” Hawke gets out. She knows most people in the Blooming Rose well enough, after all. They can handle nearly everything. If anything, it sounds like a blatant excuse not to accept Qunari customers. Which is, of course, well in the establishment’s right to do.

Part of her can’t believe the absurdity of standing in the middle of the compound and trying to keep a situation from escalating by discussing the fact that the Qunari had bigger _‘equipment’_ than their fellow humans and elves.

“I bet not letting any women into your military feels like a very bad decision sometimes,” she adds without thought, almost as an afterthought, and a second later she wants to slap herself for having such a loose mouth.

“Women do not fight.” 

His words are simple and stated like an unmovable fact. Hawke knows that this is a view inherent in Qunari culture, but it makes her bristle with annoyance all the same.

“I fight just fine, thank you,” she replies sharply, narrowing her eyes at him. “A fact you have made use of several times, if I may remind you. Unless you want to tell me I am not a woman for that…” 

He doesn’t say a single word, just keeps looking at her with the same unflinching gaze, and a realization hits her.

“Wait, that is seriously how you’re thinking, isn’t it?” Hawke breathes out in complete disbelief. She knows she should just let it rest, but something about the insinuation, about the way he is so blatantly projecting his own views onto her reality like they are somehow absolute, irks her to no end. 

“I have half a mind to personally prove to you how wrong you are,” she mumbles, more to herself than to anyone else, but at her words, he suddenly shifts.

If anything, his look gets even more intense. After a few moments of painful quiet, the Arishok suddenly leans back.

“Alright, I accept your proposal.”

“Huh?” is all the bewildered noise that Hawke is capable of letting out as she tries to follow what he is saying. Accept what exactly? She tilts her head in confusion, about to ask for clarification when he gives it without being prompted.

“I will grant you those twenty-four hours. We will wait with our own search for that given time,” the Arishok states simply. Hawke feels a heavy weight lifts off her shoulders as relief floods her, only to be stunned into more confusion as he adds, “In exchange, you stay here, in the compound, and prove your claim.”

Something isn’t right, she knows. There are clear warning bells in her head as she slowly realizes that her tendency to say whatever is on her mind at any given moment has once again served to cause her more trouble than necessary. 

“My claim?” Hawke asks carefully, though she has an eerie feeling she knows where this is headed.

“That you are both a warrior and a woman,” the Arishok confirms her suspicion a moment later, and his eyes slowly and very visibly move down along her body. “We’ll see if you can convince me.”

Her eyes widen in shock as she understands he is completely serious, and she stares at him, gobsmacked, for a good few seconds before she catches herself. Protest and denial sit ready to go on her tongue when she realizes that this little misunderstanding actually gives them exactly what they wanted. Time to prevent another incident. In seconds she weighs her options and decides the price is one she can pay. Steadfast, she ignores the little voice in her head that insists she might even gladly pay it.

“Fine,” Hawke agrees loudly, and next to her, Varric actually gasps.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” he mumbles quietly next to her, and Hawke just shrugs.

“It’s a terrible idea, but I don’t have any better ones,” she murmurs back with a shrug. “You will have to organize the search without me, though. I am counting on you to make the most of those twenty-four hours.” 

He looks not happy with the situation at all, but Hawke knows Varric trusts her. Just like she expected, he gives her a court nod after a moment. 

“You can count on us,” he assures her before turning to leave. “Just, take care of yourself!”

“I’ll try,” she replies with a huff as she watches him leave before she turns back to the Arishok. 

“So, how does this test of yours look like?” she challenges him, only mildly irritated that he still sits on his throne, looking like all of this is certainly beneath him. “Do I get to duel people? I would assume with weapons because going into hand-to-hand combat might be a little bit unfair.”

Hawke knows she is rambling, but she can’t really bring herself to simply stand around quietly. Not when she is already slightly on edge.

The Arishok stands up all of a sudden, making the steps down before gesturing in the direction further into the compound, into a part Hawke has never set foot in before.

“Follow me,” he says plainly and walks without even sparing her another look.

“Where to?” 

He doesn’t answer, and Hawke hurries to catch up with his large strides.

“Waitwaitwait,” she calls out, “if I am supposed to prove myself a warrior as well, shouldn't there be a fight or something?”

The Arishok neither turns nor slows down as he says dryly, “That you are a skilled fighter is not in question. It’s your other claim that requires proof.”

They come to a halt in front of an elaborate tent with two guards posted in front of it, and Hawke swallows as she becomes acutely aware of the reality of her situation. Was she really about to do this, whatever it entailed, just because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut?

 _And to get them the time they so desperately needed_ , a part of her adds quietly. 

Her shoulders straighten as she looks at the Arishok with a challenge in her eyes.

“So how is this going to go then? You just want me to do what, sleep with you?”

His brow furrows as he motions her to get inside.

“There will be no sleeping required.” 

At her brief hesitation, an incredibly smug and superior look spreads over his face. 

“Unless, of course, you want to take back your claims and bow out, Hawke,” he says in a voice that is dripping with condescension. “Your claim is weak at best; no one would fault someone who is less than Qunari to retreat in fear. It is to be expected.”

His blatant insinuation that she might be, in any way, scared of him stokes a fire in her, and with clenched teeth, she smiles at him.

“I can handle everything, even someone like you,” Hawke says with a sharp edge to her voice before she passes him and enters the tent.

It is probably the most lavish interior of a tent she has ever seen, Hawke thinks a moment later. For all the sparsity of the Qunari’s looks and their armor, the inside of it looks like nothing she has ever encountered.

It is spacious. Fit for a leader with its three separate main poles that not only keep the tent up but are elaborately decorated with colorful fabrics and patterns. There is a desk in one corner, littered with notes and maps. Two benches are in the center of the place in what looks like a little sitting area and to the right…

She thinks that a bed like that, large and spacious to accommodate Qunari physique, has no place in something as fickle as a tent. But it makes sense, in a way, that with the Qunari having lived here for the better part of four years already they would make their lodgings more permanent. Hawke catches herself at the thought that the last thing she would have expected in the Qunari compound was any sort of comfort. 

Though, when she looks over her shoulder and sees the Arishook looking her over, she is rather certain comfort will be the last thing granted to her. He assesses her as if he is re-thinking the whole thing before his eyes narrow on her armor.

“Undress.” 

It’s simple, clear, and to the point. And it is undoubtedly an order. Still, she blinks slowly as she tries to calm the sudden nervousness within herself.

“What, not even dinner first?” Hawke quips, but the Arishok looks not amused.

“I believe you mentioned breakfast,” he replies dryly, and there is that subtle twitch she saw earlier on his face again. “If you make it until then, you may claim that. Now, take off your clothes.”

Her eyebrows rise as she looks at him, stunned for a moment while wondering if he had just made a joke. But he is still waiting. They made a deal after all, and with a dry throat, she starts to unbuckle her armor.

It is not that the thought of sleeping with him is abhorrent to her. On the contrary, Hawke always thought the Arishok, in particular, had something very intriguing about him. She would be lying to herself if she said she had never been curious. Still, the tension in the air is somewhat nerve-wracking as she slowly sheds her clothing piece by piece, and he simply keeps watching her.

He is nothing if not efficient. In the time it takes her to undress, he unbuckles his pauldrons and throws them carelessly to the floor. From his look as his eyes wander over her naked form, Hawke can’t gauge at all if he appreciates what he sees or not. She half-expects the Arishok to inspect her like cattle on the market when he steps closer. He does not, though. He lets one of his large hands run over her skin, over her shoulders, and down her chest, his fingers prod her lightly. His touch is warm, and she feels the calluses from many years of wielding large weapons roughly on her skin.

“You are soft,” he rumbles, and his voice seems to hover somewhere between surprise and skepticism.

Hawke manages to turn the gasp she lets out as his rough thumb brushes over her nipple into an indignant huff. “Do not mistake softness for weakness, Arishok,” she shoots back, and something in his eyes shifts and looks almost like appreciation as he takes a step back and inclines his head.

When he unceremoniously takes off his pants, Hawke feels like her eyes are almost comically widening. The Arishok is a tall, well-built man. She always assumed he would probably be _‘proportional’_ in every area, but this is ridiculous.

Hawke’s throat runs dry as she takes a good look at him, and a shiver runs down her spine at the thought that she might have been a little too overconfident. At the same time, heat pools between her legs at the mere thought of having him inside of her. The conflicting emotions make her hesitate once more, and the Arishok gives her a scathing look.

“Now, Hawke, you made the offer, and I accepted. Do you want to insult me further now by backing out of it?”

She is not about to back out of anything, but his blatant expectation that she is somehow too intimidated makes her grind her teeth together, and she bristles.

“Are you implying if I leave now, you will take it as a political affront?” She asks him sharply. “I thought Qunari were above such pettiness.”

He is not fazed by her sharper tone at all, and his calm is slowly becoming somewhat infuriating to her.

“I would take it as proof of you and your people being fickle and unreliable.” The Arishok sounds casual, but something in his eyes is still different than before. “Not that I need any further proof of that,” he adds lazily, and Hawke gasps as she notices the glint in his eyes, and she realizes he is doing this on purpose. He is baiting her.

“So, I get to prove you wrong on several accounts today,” she shoots back cockily, feeling a little bit triumphant when she sees the brief twitch in the corner of his mouth once more. It’s barely there, and Hawke would have overlooked it had she not already been intensely staring at him. But like this, she notices. And slowly, she starts to understand what it means.

“I’d like to see you try,” the Arishok replies before he casually sits down on one of the benches and widens his legs before he fixes her with a daring look. 

“Get on your knees, Hawke. Show me you are more than empty words.”

She thinks briefly about goading him some more. Their back and forth is just starting to be fun, after all, but at the same time, she feels her own need pushing her forward, and a moment later, she finds herself between his massive thighs, sinking down onto the floor until she is at eye-level with the biggest cock she has ever seen in her life.

He is hot under her touch as she runs her hands over his shaft, and a sliver of unease is back as she realizes she needs both of her hands to fully grasp him. What has she gotten herself into?

“Maybe this will serve as a lesson to consider your words more wisely,” comes his dry comment from above, and Hawke immediately tries to banish all traces of hesitation from her face. She lets her hands slide all the way up to the tip, teasing it lightly. Despite his condescending tone, she has solid proof in her hand that he is at least somewhat interested in this.

“My words seem to have been enough to cause this,” Hawke says in her most flippant voice before she bends forward and licks a stripe along the slit on the head of his cock. A sharp intake of breath is her reward.

“The thought of punishing you for your insolence causes this.”

He sounds chastising, but when she lets her tongue twirl around him, he gasps again, and Hawke feels a satisfied smile coming on.

“Keep telling yourself that, big guy,” she says with a cocky grin as she looks up to him. “And maybe…” 

He stops her snark by grabbing her hair in a harsh grip, and his cock pushes through her lips, forcing her to open her mouth wide. Hawke nearly chokes on her own spit in shock. She saw he was huge, but in her mouth, his cock feels more massive than she ever could have imagined. Her jaw is stretched as wide as possible, and it still barely fits. She is somewhat both intrigued and terrified at the thought of going through with this. Not that it would change much about her choice.

Her hands wrap around his length, stroking him and making sure he can’t push further into her mouth then she is comfortable with as she tries to bob her head as best as she can. 

A low moan leaves the Arishok’s mouth. His hand is still firmly buried in her hair, but he lets her set the pace, and Hawke is nothing but grateful for it. Her jaw hurts slightly from the pressure, but with every shallow push into her mouth, she feels the heated anticipation between her thighs at the thought of what might come later. 

Small drops of pre-come coat her tongue, and the taste of him has her moan around him. It’s a soft, muffled sound, but when she looks up, she can see in his pleased expression that he heard her.

Hawke is dimly aware of hearing faint noises from a distance. Someone talking further away, somewhere outside. Suddenly, she remembers the two guards in front of the tent just as he pushes a bit further, making her splutter and nearly gag around him. Heat rises to her face as she realizes that whatever sounds they are making will be heard outside, leaving no doubt about what is happening inside the tent to anyone passing by. Not that there would be any doubt for the soldiers who were present earlier anyway.

There isn’t too much of a commotion outside, though. As she closes her lips as best as she can around him, Hawke briefly wonders if his men stay away from their leader’s tent out of respect or out of disgust. Heat flashes through her again as she considers that just because she isn’t hearing a lot, it doesn’t mean no one is listening.

She does her best to fit as much as possible of him into her mouth, but she struggles. If she goes too enthusiastically, she quickly reaches the point where she can’t breathe anymore. The Arishok, meanwhile, looks down at her with an impassive look on his face. If it weren’t for a small tremble she feels on her tongue, Hawke would be hard-pressed to think he has any interest in this at all. 

He gives her a curious look, and his hand on her hair tightens as he holds her in place before he slowly pushes further into her mouth. A brief bout of panic rushes through her, as she realizes he is holding her so firmly she can’t move her head at all, and he is not stopping. Not until he is far enough to make her convulse around him once, drawing a low moan out of him. The Arishok is too big to go down her throat, Hawke knows, but that doesn’t stop him from cutting off her air. To her relief, he lets up after a few seconds, drawing back and letting her breathe. 

Hawke splutters as he slips out of her mouth, and she heaves for breath, but when his hand clasps her chin to hold her mouth open once more, she doesn’t resist. If he wants to test her boundaries, she is surprisingly fine with that. A part of her is curious herself just how much she can take. 

The Arishok does the same thing again. He pulls her aching jaw wide open and pushes his cock into her mouth as far as he can until it plugs off her air, and Hawke tries her best to stay still, to not panic. He seems to enjoy how tense every part of her gets at the sensation, and he lets out a pleased sound. Just like before, he draws back after a few moments. She breathes deeply again, and they fall into a rhythm. It is slow but intense in a strange way she has never experienced before.

Hawke doesn’t know just how often this continues until he finally withdraws completely, and, before she can react, reaches for her. The Arishok straight up lifts her and turns her around, his hands on her hips nudging her legs apart until she sits on his lap, her back against his chest with her legs opened wide. 

He doesn’t waste time with any finesse. Instead, his hand dives straight to the point. His fingers roughly part her folds, and Hawke gasps sharply as he flicks over her clit. The Arishok’s hands are massive, like everything on him is, and when he pushes a finger into her she feels it brush against her inner walls despite how wet she already is. He doesn’t give her any time to adjust before a second finger follows, and she hisses at the sudden stretch. 

She knows she can take it, she has had bigger things inside her before, but her throat runs dry at the thought that two of his fingers, large as they are, are not even close to the size of his cock. Hawke isn’t even sure she can take all of him, but part of her can’t wait to try.

His free hand roams over her chest. Hawke never felt like her breasts were particularly small, but when he cups them, they certainly look small in comparison. Her nipples are stiff under the rough pads of his fingers, and she gasps as he pinches them. Like he is intrigued by the noises she makes, he keeps exploring her reactions, teasing her almost gently only to suddenly pull or flick at a nipple until she lets out another moan. All while he pumps his fingers in and out of her a few times, experimentally going deeper each time, coaxing raw noises out of her throat before he suddenly withdraws and reaches for something. Hawke tries to turn and see, but his hand on her hip tightens.

“Stay still,” the Arishok orders matter-of-factly. “It will not do if you twist around aimlessly and I accidentally break you.”

When his hand is back in her view, he holds a flask. She has seen the likes before on the market stalls, filled with oil for taking care of leather works and weapons alike. He pours some of it over his hand, and a moment later, he holds her still again as he slides his fingers back inside her. The stretch is still there, but it is much smoother now. She is almost getting comfortable when he adds a third finger, and the tense groan that leaves her mouth rings through the evening air.

His free hand clasps over her mouth a moment later. “You will stay quiet, Hawke,” the Arishok growls. “Control yourself, have you no pride?”

The thought almost makes her laugh into his hand. Pride? The mere thought seems ridiculous in her situation. Hawke already knows her pride would not survive this evening intact. She only hopes the rest of her will. 

When he pushes a fourth finger inside, she is panting, her hands clamping down on his thighs as she tries her best to muffle the sounds she makes. Small hisses of discomfort, interrupted by moans of pleasure, leave her as he slowly moves most of his hand in and out of her, stretching her further than she ever has been before. 

Hawke clenches around him, trying to shift and tilt her hips enough so she can rub herself against his thumb. But just like that, he draws his hand away and she whimpers at the sudden loss. Her breath goes faster, though, the moment she sees him spread some of the oil onto his cock before he suddenly grabs her and lifts her up. 

The head of his cock breaches through her folds and slips inside her waiting cunt almost effortlessly, and for a moment, Hawke thinks that this will be easier than she thought. Then the girth follows, and she isn’t prepared for the way it pushes her to her limit in the least. 

The Arishok goes slow, seemingly willing not to break her apart, at least, but he does not pause or retreat. Hawke knows she will not be able to take all of him inside her. It's a physical impossibility, but she knows that depending on how rough he is about it, he could make the things that _are_ possible either pleasant or rather uncomfortable for her.

The Arishok’s grip on her hips is hard, and his arms are tense as he pushes further and further at a slow, steady pace until he reaches her limit.

She has never felt so full before, and the guttural moan leaving her mouth sounds through the tent. He doesn’t stop or chastise her for it this time, and Hawke doesn’t care anymore who hears them. She doesn’t care if the entire compound hears just how good their leader’s cock feels inside of her.

She is about to tell him to move when he does so on his own, slowly lifting her off him before letting her sink back down. The stretch still feels impossible, just tethering below the point where it might hurt, and when he drags himself along her clenching walls Hawke’s head falls back, resting on his shoulders as she holds on to him for dear life. 

His thrusts remain shallow, slow, and Hawke wishes she could take him deeper. Could let him rut wildly into her. Even with the clearly appreciative noises he makes, the Arishok seems still way too composed for her taste. She wants to see him lose at least some of that stoic calm.

When he next lifts her up again, Hawke clenches around him as best as she can, and the noise he makes is a low growl that sends a shudder through her whole body. He shifts her slightly, and when he pushes in, he hits that spot inside her, which makes her nearly see stars perfectly. Hawke’s eyes flutter shut with a moan as she arches her back at the sensation.

He does it again, and again, speeding up, and Hawke feels herself rapidly approaching her peak when suddenly there are lips on her neck. She feels teeth biting down lightly, and something in her snaps. The Arishok hits that spot just right, and with a stifled cry, she feels her release sweep over her. Breathlessly, she keeps a tight hold on his legs, her fingers digging into his skin harshly as she shivers and shakes around him.

When Hawke opens her eyes again and twists her head to look over her shoulder, they meet a fiery gaze. The Arishok is still moving slowly inside her, but she can see from the tension in his arms that he is holding on by a thread.

“This will not do,” he says with a low growl, and his usually stoic voice holds just a hint of a shake in it. A shiver runs down Hawke’s back as she realizes what it sounds like - _need._ He is no longer merely trying to prove a point to teach her a lesson; he _wants_ her! And even though she is still shaking from her release, she feels the heat pool in her stomach again.

A second later, Hawke lets out an undignified squeak as he lifts her up and stands before he turns them around roughly. She finds herself bent over the bench and on her knees. His large hand is heavy on her back, pressing her down and holding her in place as he reaches for the flask again.

The Arishok isn’t one for subtlety as he pours the oil in between her ass cheeks before he coats his hand again, generously. For a moment, Hawke expects him to simply keep fucking her from this new angle, but instead, his fingers are suddenly on her ass, circling her other entrance, and she tenses.

“No,” Hawke breathes out, trying to twist out from underneath his touch, but he presses down harder. His hold is like steel, not giving her an inch.

“You were the one who declared she could take me, all of me,” the Arishok growls as he ignores her squirms. “This is how you will accommodate me.”

“I never before…” she starts a weak protest but trails off after only a few words as the insistent press of his fingers sends a surprisingly strong wave of desire through her. A flush of heated embarrassment floods through her as she considers it. Her stomach clenches, but she knows it’s only partly out of fear. A much larger part revels at the thought and wants nothing more than to take his entire length into her body.

The Arishok takes that moment to push a finger inside of her and past her resistance, and Hawke feels like all air is leaving her lungs.

“Then be thankful and pay attention. You might learn something,” he says in a low voice as a second finger prods and stretches her slowly before sinking inside her as well, and she lets out a surprised moan. Her hands hold on tightly to the bench, knuckles white from the tension she holds in her entire body.

The sensation is foreign, but not in a bad way. It is simply different, almost staggeringly so. The small tremors running through her drag sparks of lust along with them. Her spine curves without her will as he pushes in deeper, and she can’t help but moan wantonly under his touch. 

Conflicting emotions run through her as she realizes just how much she enjoys this. How the strange and totally new sensation sends waves of heat and desire through her, overwhelming her in all the best ways.

There is discomfort when he adds a third finger, and Hawke hisses and squirms underneath his hold until he adds more oil. But like before, he doesn’t stop what he is doing, even for a moment. With each push, each delicious drag of his fingers over so-far untouched parts of her that are surprisingly sensitive, she feels herself slowly melt into his touches.

Hawke knows she is getting louder and louder the more he works her open. Each delicious moment he stretches her sends a shudder of delight through her. He twists his fingers, and her eyes flutter shut under the sensation. How something like this is feeling so incredibly good, she doesn’t understand, but she finds herself unwilling to care.

When he suddenly pulls his fingers out of her, Hawke nearly whines at the loss of sensation, and she isn’t sure, but she could swear she hears an amused sounding chuckle from behind her. She feels almost boneless, sluggish, and slow, but there is a renewed heat burning inside her that has her rub her legs together in an attempt to get some friction.

The Arishok’s hands are firmly on her as he lifts her, and a moment later, she finds herself on his lap once more, this time facing him. She grabs his shoulders instinctively, holding on as his hands on her ass spread her apart, and she feels the blunt and enormous feeling head of his cock push against her.

Her breath is stuck in her lungs as the Arishock wastes no time. He is still controlled, slow, and measured in his every move, but he pushes against her relentlessly, and despite his thorough preparation, Hawke feels herself growing tense all over again as he slowly breaches the tight ring of muscle.

She holds her breath, and for a moment, all she can feel is pressure. Pressure and the slightest bit of remaining fear as she feels her body slowly give, bit by bit. Hawke feels like she is bursting already, yet he still pushes, and her breath goes faster. He is too big, she panics. This will not work.

“Stop,” she breathes out with a small sob. “You will not fit!”

A warm, large hand runs down her spine. “Let go of your tension,” he instructs her. “Relax.”

“Maker’s balls,” something in her explodes as the tension swaps over. “How the fuck am I supposed to relax? I’m telling you, this is too much and-”

The rest of her sentence gets swallowed by his mouth covering hers, and Hawke freezes for a moment as she feels his lips move. His tongue is pushing into her mouth, all but demanding her complete attention. The Arishok’s hand is in her neck, angling and holding her head just right, and Hawke couldn’t have backed away if she had wanted to - he makes sure of it.

His tongue is rougher than she is used to from humans or elves. More agile as well, and a bit longer. It sweeps through every corner of her mouth, claiming every part of it, and she can’t help but moan heavily into their kiss that goes on and on like there is nothing else to do in the whole world anymore.

She is still thoroughly getting lost in his mouth when his arm on her loosens its hold ever so slightly. Before Hawke can protest any further, gravity is already at work, pulling on her until she gradually sinks down on his cock.

The Arishok makes sure it is slow and steady as he swallows her moans and sighs with his mouth. The way he kisses her keeps her attention divided, and Hawke can do nothing but hold on to him. His hand is warm on her back again, soothing as he pushes relentlessly. 

Somehow, the Arishok is both storm and sanctuary. He wills her surrender by the sheer calm he proceeds with as she mewls into their kiss. When she finally comes to rest on his thighs, his hand on her hips presses her down further, just a little bit, and then he is all the way inside her. 

Hawke can barely breathe for a moment. She thought he would rip her apart, but instead, she just feels wonderfully full. 

They are unmoving, completely still against each other for a moment, as they breathe each other’s air. Hawke can hear his breath going faster as well, can feel the tension in his muscles, and she shifts slightly, doing her best to push back at him in a silent plea for him to move. 

There is that slight twitch in the corner of his mouth again, and she knows he is amused about her sudden impatience, but she doesn’t care anymore. All she wants is to see him lose at least some of his calm. To pick her up and take the pleasure he wants from her. 

When she moves a bit again, it seems to do the trick. With a low growl, the Arishok’s hands both close deftly around her hips, and he lifts her. Not too much, just enough so he can slam her back down, and the noise that leaves her mouth is one of the most indecent sounds Hawke has ever heard. A mixture between a wanton moan and a wail, it carries through the air. _Probably through the entire compound_ , flashes through her mind, but the thought is gone immediately when the Arishok does it again. 

His thrusts are short but powerful, and Hawke doesn’t know what to do except hold onto him tightly, so overwhelming is the feeling of him buried that deep inside of her. There is a coil of need and desire tightly wound inside her, as each of his thrusts builds it up more. One of her hands slips down between them, and Hawke nearly falls apart when her own fingers brush over her folds. She is so wet she can slide them inside her with ease, but before she can get anywhere, the Arishok grabs her wrist and pulls her hand away. 

There is an intense look in his eyes as he stops moving and draws her hand up until his lips close around her fingers. His tongue dives in between them, tasting her with a deep growl at the back of his throat. 

Hawke feels paralyzed by both the sight and her own growing need. With a desperate grind of her hips, she nearly whimpers.

“Look at you,” the Arishok says with the usual hint of disdain she has heard so often from him, “Afraid one minute, and reduced to nearly begging me for more the next.”

It is with a small jolt of triumph that Hawke notices the different timbre in his voice, the slight shake his harsh words are trying to hide. He may talk like he is unaffected, but she knows he is anything but.

“Are you going to give it to me then?” she challenges him, despite her own voice being breathless with need. “Or is this woman too much for you after all?”

It is a blatant try at goading him. She knows it, and he knows it just as well, but it is enough.

“If you want to please me and yourself, you better do the work,” the Arishok growls as he nudges her hips, making it clear what he wants. 

Hawke feels her legs tremble from desire and tension alike as she holds onto his shoulders once more and pushes herself up almost all the way. Her breath is going in heavy bursts as she lets herself sink down onto his cock a moment later, and this time he is moaning with her.

When she does it again, slowly starting to find a rhythm, she feels his hand between her legs. She can see on his face his satisfaction at finding her dripping wet again, just before he pushes two of his fingers inside her without warning.

It had been a stretch before, but now, with the added pressure of him in her ass, she feels nearly unbearably tight. When he pushes his fingers as deeply into her as he can, she lets out a guttural moan and her eyes flutter shut as she speeds up. 

The Arishiok matches her every move, and her moans fill the air around them until Hawke suddenly feels his other hand at her face. When she gasps, his fingers push through her lips and into her mouth, claiming her much as his tongue did earlier. The sound he makes when she starts sucking spurs her on even more, and when she opens her eyes, they are locked onto his, shining brightly with need.

For a brief moment, Hawke wishes there was a mirror around as she imagines the sight she must make, moaning and working herself on his lap while he fills her in every way possible. And then, several things happen at once. She sinks down onto his cock once more as his fingers on her mouth press down on her tongue, pushing far enough to make it harder to breathe again. Hawke feels a third finger stretching and teasing her cunt just as his thumb presses down on her clit just so, and she can barely get enough air into her lungs for the scream that leaves her as the pressure and the desire in her boils over, and she comes in violent shakes around him.

She is still shaking and moaning softly when the Arishok’s hands are on her hips again, and he suddenly thrusts into her hard and fast, fucking her pliant and utterly relaxed body with the strength he had managed to hold back for the longest time but not anymore. 

Hawke can do nothing but let him. Everything within her still feels pleasantly tingly as she arches her back and tries her best to meet his thrusts with what little strength is still left to her. His lips are on her breasts, sucking and biting until she lets out a small yell and his mouth wanders up. There are no soft kisses or gentle caresses, the Arishok is all hard edges and steel as he leaves imprints of his teeth on her collarbone and her neck, but Hawke doesn’t mind. This is exactly what she wanted to see, after all.

The Arishok growls deeply as he spills himself within her, buried to the hilt and biting down her shoulder harshly. She shakes in his arms, mewling at the flash of pain combined with still feeling so incredibly full it makes her wonder if she might persuade him to repeat all of this in a few minutes.

She is already debating with herself how to best broach that topic when his hand clasps around her chin, and he makes her face him.

“You will stay here until we get word of your companion’s success or failure,” the Arishok rumbles before he gives a pointed look towards the corner with the giant bed in it. “If you can leave it tomorrow morning on your own two feet, you will leave having earned my respect.”

A slightly nervous laugh leaves Hawke, but underneath it, she is brimming with excitement. “And if I can’t?” 

“Then you will not leave,” he says matter-of-factly. “And I have earned a new pet for the rest of my stay in this wretched city.” The Arishok gives her an almost appreciating look. “From your performance, I suspect you might be useful. Possibly even able to serve multiple Qunari at once.” 

He sounds both threatening and clinical about it, but there is something in his eyes that makes her pause and quells the sudden fear that rose at his words. Like the brief glimpses she saw before, Hawke suspects there is something more behind his bluster and his posturing. After all, nothing about this encounter has been unpleasant for her so far, and he had taken quite a few measures to assure that. 

“I am going to leave this compound whether you want me to or not,” she replies with raised eyebrows. “And I’ll prove to you my worth as a warrior on my way out if I have to.”

At her brazen reply, he looks like he is almost smiling. “Is that so?” the Arishok muses. “If you manage that, I might be truly impressed by you, Hawke.”

“Prepare to be amazed then,” she says with a laugh on her lips. “And in the meantime, how about you impress _me_ some more? Who knows, it might be enough to get me to come back one day.”


End file.
